


Bookends

by Annorahrose



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Jealous Rosie, John and Rosie, Mary and everyone, Molly and Rosie, OC William Holmes, Sherlock and Rosie, Sherlock has a knack, Sherlolly in chapter 2, Who knew?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24226159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annorahrose/pseuds/Annorahrose
Summary: Some lessons are are hard to learn. Luckily, Sherlock has Rosie to teach him.Two shot - first chapter is Rosie’s baptism in The Six Thatchers, second chapter is four years later (post TFP).
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes & Molly Hooper & John Watson & Rosamund “Rosie” Watson, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 24
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at anything not purely Sherlolly (though it is still Sherlolly). As has happened with everything I’ve posted thus far, I’ll undoubtedly post and then spend the next week editing as I’m continually thinking of better ways to say things. I beg your patience, my brain likes making me look indecisive.
> 
> Not betad or Brit picked, and concrit is always appreciated. Comments are always appreciated. Kudos... ah, heck, you reading this is appreciated!
> 
> As with everything else I am indebted to the endlessly patient and supportive MrsMCrieff, who puts up with rambling message over rambling message. 
> 
> I own nothing. Have fun! 😊

Rosamund Watson.

Rose-of-the-world.

Rosie

Sherlock considered this name as he watched the baptism. Rosie Watson. Well, at least now he understood why Mrs. Hudson had suggested so many gifts with garish flower motifs. Though why one needed to receive a gift for the occasion of splashing some water on their head he didn’t understand. In the end he simply informed Mrs. Hudson that he would add his name to her gift and pay for half. She replied that she was his landlady, not his PA, but she did as he asked anyway. 

As it transpired, he was giving her half of a basket full of dresses, bonnets, and rompers - all in shades of pink and yellow. As gifts for infants go, he thought, it could have been worse. 

Molly’s gift was a large faded patchwork quilt with panels of pink and blue flowers. It was clearly well-used, but was also very clean and in excellent repair. Mary gasped as she pulled it from the box. Sherlock thought it looked familiar, though he couldn’t immediately place where he might have seen it.

“Molly, this is gorgeous! It must be vintage. Wherever did you find this?”

Molly blushed slightly. “When I was a little girl, I used to love to play in my gran’s back garden. She had these beautiful rose bushes with forget-me-nots planted around them, like a border. I would play around them for hours, pretending that the forget-me-nots were magical jewels that only I could grow, and that every rose stem that was cut became a magic wand that could grant just one wish. Gran made me that quilt and gave it to me for my birthday just before she passed. Mum told me later that she had been piecing it together for years. Apparently fabric with forget-me-nots is not easy to find. In the end, Mum said making it for me was Gran’s favorite distraction. It’s covered in roses, of course, so I thought it might be good for Rosie.”

Mary sat with tears running down her face, while John cleared his throat and blinked rapidly. While Mary rooted around looking for a tissue, John touched the quilt and said “Molly, no, this should go to your children. We can’t possibly take an heirloom like this, it should stay in your family!”

Molly simply smiled. “You are my family.”

At which point Mary broke down into sobs and nearly tripped over her own feet crossing the room to hug Molly with what looked like quite a firm grip. Molly winced slightly (Mary was really quite strong), but smiled and hugged Mary back.

Sherlock looked back at the quilt and realized where he had seen it. Molly had kept it folded at the foot of her bed. Now he came to think on it, in all the time he had used her flat as a bolt hole, he had never seen her bed without it. An odd feeling started in his throat and in back of his eyes. Oh for God’s sake, this was pure sentiment, why should he be reacting like this?

He looked over at Rosie, who was asleep in Mrs. Hudson’s arms, her little face contented and her mouth forming a tiny “O”. He could picture her lying on the quilt, making her funny little squeals and giggles as she kicked at the air. He was shocked to realize that he wanted to give her something like this - something special that he could share with her, and she would always know it was from him. A little piece of him for her to have as she grew.

The prickling behind his eyes grew a bit stronger, and he found himself imitating John - blinking rapidly while he collected himself. Mary had finally let go of Molly (though still sniffing and dabbing at her eyes). She noticed that Rosie had fallen asleep, and gestured to her husband.

“John, darling, can you put Rosie down for her nap?”

Mrs. Hudson and Molly both moved slightly, each offering to take her and let John stay and relax. Before either of them could really move, however, Sherlock strode over to Mrs. Hudson, lifted Rosie from her arms - gently but with firm support under her head and bottom - and turned to walk from the room.

“Alright, Rosie, lets get you settled before all these daft people wake you with their incessant yammering. Apparently no one ever taught them to keep their voices down when someone is sleeping.” His voice was softer than usual, but with his usual no-nonsense cadence. He continued speaking all the way to Rosie’s room.

He didn’t know the baby monitor was on.

“They do it to me all the time. But don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to build your own mind palace, and then you can go into it any time you want, and they can’t bother you. Of course, you will need to be a bit older, so in the meantime I’ll just have to keep them on their best behavior.”

He peered at Rosie, who had remained asleep as he walked with her, only letting out a small shuddering breath and a coo as he put her in her cot, looking first to be sure it was free of blankets, pillows, or toys. He was surprised at himself - Rosie was an infant, and couldn’t possibly understand what he was saying. He was falling into the traps of sentiment. If he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself speaking to her in that ghastly, simpering baby talk. Still, he felt compelled to continue.

“Your Auntie Molly gave you quite a special gift, Rosie. Though I still don’t understand why they insist on calling us aunties and uncle - we aren’t related to you, we’re your godparents. You’re no less special to me than if you were my niece. The things people do for sentiment...” He hesitated, then stroked her soft little brow.

“I don’t have a quilt for you. I don’t generally hold with such things. But never think that it’s because I don’t want to have something to share with you. Not so long ago I gave your mummy and daddy a vow to always protect your family. I won’t let anything ever hurt you. You won’t get stuffed bears from me, I’ll leave that to the others. From me you will get time and knowledge. I will teach you everything I can. Who knows, maybe someday you’ll be the worlds second consulting detective. I think maybe you could.”

“Well, I think that’s enough to be getting on with for now. Good dreams, Rosie.” He continued to study her face for a few more seconds, then left the room quietly, closing the door with a soft snap.

He re-entered the sitting room to see almost everyone frozen in place, looks of shock on every face, and complete silence.

“What?” he asked innocently. Molly stifled a grin, hiding her mouth behind one fist as Mrs. Hudson beamed at him and cried out a little sob. Mary broke down in another fit of hysterical tears and stood to run from the room (presumably to find a fresh box of tissues). He watched, slightly alarmed, as she passed him, looking at his face as she crossed in front of him, met his eyes, threw her arms around his neck (nearly cutting off his oxygen supply) before letting go and continuing out to the loo. “Why are you all staring at me? Did I do something wrong? Why is Mary crying?”

John was back to blinking rapidly. “Postpartum hormones, mate. And you didn’t do anything wrong. Quite the opposite.” John moved to follow Mary from the room, but paused in the doorway, rubbing his chin.

“Sentiment, Sherlock?”

A shuffling sound came from the receiver for the baby monitor, and Sherlock realized his conversation with Rosie had been overheard. He huffed an impatient breath and rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. She’s my goddaughter too, and someone needs to make sure you lot give her some peace and quiet.” Molly snorted loudly, unable to contain her tear-filled giggles. He rolled his eyes again and sank back into his chair, pulling out his phone and starting to text furiously. “Oh, for god’s sake, will you all stop blubbering?” John chuckled under his breath, shook his head, and went to check on his wife. Molly and Mrs. Hudson resumed gazing at him with... fondness.

“Oh, for... do I have to deduce someone to get you all to act like reasonable adults?” Molly shook her head, trying to school her expression into one more sober, but not quite managing it.  
  
”No, Sherlock. No deducing is needed. We’ll calm down, I promise.”

Sherlock was beginning to be glad that John and Mary had thrust this ridiculous title on him. Someone had to look out for this child to ensure she didn’t fall victim to sentiment. It was everywhere he looked. 


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a difficult three weeks since William was born. Rosie was jealous. Very jealous. Every time she looked at the new baby her brow would furrow into a dark scowl. She refused all offers to hold him. She refused to call him William, only ever referring to him as “Baby”, protesting that William was part of Sherlock’s name first, and it wasn’t fair for Baby to take it.

The morning had not been a fun one. Rosie threw an impressive tantrum immediately upon arriving at Sherlock and Molly’s house when John caught her sneaking a biscuit. One might have thought he was depriving her of air to breathe with the fuss she was making. Eventually the noise woke William, who started wailing. John had scolded her for her behavior, and she had burst into tears and run out the back door. Molly handed the baby to Sherlock and started to follow, but John stopped her.

“She needs a minute. She’s still having a hard time with the idea of sharing you two.”

Sherlock bounced William a bit, shushing him. “It’s alright, little man. You’d best get used to strong women now, you’ll have no shortage of them in the future.” Shifting the baby to his shoulder, he looked at John “I don’t know why you both look so surprised. We all expected this, we knew that this wouldn’t be easy for her.”

John sighed. “Sherlock, she can’t be allowed to behave like this.”

“We know, John, but we mustn’t make a bad situation worse.” Molly replied. “I can’t help but think about the first day she couldn’t snuggle on my lap because my tummy was too big. She looked so heartbroken.” Tears, no doubt augmented by postpartum hormones, gathered in her eyes and she turned away. Sherlock, having successfully quieted William, handed the baby to John and led Molly by the waist to the settee.

“Sit down, Molly, I don’t want you working yourself up like this. I think we could all use a cup of tea.” He kissed her on the forehead, and they stilled in the moment together. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

Molly sniffled but was able to calm down a bit. “John, for all intents and purposes, William is Rosie’s brother. We can’t let her go on feeling this way.”

“Do I need to remind you that Rosie’s mother was a trained assassin, or that she’s grown up with with one godmother who helped her godfather fake his own death, and another that was married to a drug cartel lord and has videos of her exotic dancing days on YouTube? Sherlock’s right, she has no shortages of strong, and sometimes, frankly, scary female role models. And he’s also right that you shouldn’t get too worked up right now. You’re already sleep deprived, you don’t need to be adding in hysteria. Sit, take your son, drink your tea. I’ll go talk to Rosie.”

He found her in the back garden, sitting on a stone bench with her knees pulled up under her chin and looking for all the world like she had been abandoned. He watched her for a few moments before approaching her. He knew he needed to be firm with her, but he hated seeing his Rosebud so sad.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? To share people you love so much.”

She remained silent, stubbornly refusing to look at him. He sat on the bench sideways, crossing his ankles in front of him and pulling her into his lap, resting his chin on her head while his fingers linked around her middle, holding her in a secure embrace. This was a special trick for just the two of them. Finally, her little voice wavering with tears, she leaned back into him and spoke.

“I don’t understand why he had to come, Daddy. Everything was lovely, and then Baby came and stole MY Molly’s lap from me, and then MY Sherlock’s name! Why did he have to come here, Daddy? He’s ruined everything!” She started to sob as if her heart was broken.

“Well, Rosebud, I expect for the same reason you did. This is our family.”

“No, Daddy, it’s not the same thing at all! I didn’t come and take you away!”

John paused, his eyes soft with sympathy for her. “Actually, you did. You see, before you were born, Sherlock, your mummy, and I spent loads and loads of time together. Sherlock and I were flatmates before I met your mummy, you know. We went all over the city, even out of the country, solving cases together. But when you were born, that changed. We couldn’t take a little baby with us to solve cases, could we?”

“Yes, you could have, Daddy, I would have been a good girl, and I’d have helped you, just like I would do now!” Fat tears leaked from her eyes while an expression of betrayal darkened her face. John wiped them away with his cuff and kissed her forehead.

“Of course you would have been good, darling. But why don’t Sherlock and I let you come with us when we’re working on a case?”

Rosie scrunched her face into a petulant pout. This was an ongoing battle. “Because it’s not safe for little girls, and you don’t want me to get hurt.” Her tone made it clear that she did not agree.

“That’s right, because we need you to always be safe. Sherlock felt the same way. And so I didn’t go on so many cases anymore.” John leaned in closed to her, almost whispering. “Can I tell you a secret, Rosie? You have to be a very big girl for me to tell you this. Can you do that?”

“You know I can, Daddy.” John nodded and pulled back a little, thinking.

“Sherlock is very important to me. He’s my best friend, and I owe him a lot. He can be a bit of a git, but he saved me, Rosie. I love helping him solve cases and catch bad people. And it was a bit sad for me to not be helping him so much anymore.”

“Because of me?” Rosie’s voice cracked in despair at the idea of taking something so special from him.  
  
“Because of you, yes. Because you are more important than any case Sherlock has ever had.”

“More important even than the bad man that made him have to go away for a long time so he could stop everything that bad man was doing?”

John nodded. “Even more important than that. And I missed going on my adventures with Sherlock. But you were worth it. And you still are. Every. Single. Second. I wouldn’t trade a thousand cases for even one day with you. Do you know why that is?”

“You love me.”

“That’s exactly right, Rosamund. Because you are my family, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And you were my family even before you were born, even before I met your mummy. You were family that just hadn’t gotten here yet. And so was William. He’s family that just hadn’t gotten here until now.”

Rosie seemed to consider this. Then, her voice full of apprehension and fear, she asked “What if Sherlock and Molly love him more than me?”

A voice came from behind them. “Oh, that’s not going to happen.”

Rosie and John turned to see Sherlock standing, watching their exchange with his hands in his pockets.

“John, can I have a few moments alone with my goddaughter, please?”

John caught Rosies eyes and whispered “I’ll be inside, okay?” She nodded, her eyes downcast and a miserable expression on her face. He kissed her head, nodded to Sherlock, and left them to their conversation.

Sherlock sat beside her on the bench, scooting his back to hers so she could lean back on him. This, too, was their special trick - it allowed her to feel like she had personal space but she knew he was right there to support her. More often than not, she’d end up cuddled against him, but it was always her choice. She liked her privacy, and he respected that.

“Do you know, Rosie, that your daddy was my first best friend? I didn’t even know what a best friend was before I met him. I had been sad and lonely and didn’t even know it until he came into my life. Your daddy saved me. And not just from the bad people we chased on cases, but from my own self. And your mummy, she fascinated me, Rosie, she really did. She was the first person to be important enough for me to want to deserve her friendship. I knew her for such a short time, but she taught me so much about myself. And, of course, she gave us you. You are the most special lesson she ever taught me. I was scared at first. I was afraid that your mummy and daddy wouldn’t have room in their lives for me once they had you. But you didn’t take anything away, because caring for you didn’t change how much they cared for me. Just like now - William is my son, and I love him very, very much. But you are my Rosie. Nothing could ever make me love you less.”

Rosie sniffled and turned, snuggling a bit closer. “I don’t know, Sherlock. That sounds an awful lot like sentiment to me.” Sherlock burst out laughing, and Rosie chuckled a little. “Daddy said that baby William is a part of our family that just hadn’t come until now. Does that mean he was my mummy’s family too?”

Sherlock smiled at hearing her use William’s name for the first time. “Very much so, Rosie.” Suddenly a memory came forth - a summer day, a faded quilt, and a vow. “Do you know, Molly was the first person to realize we were all family? I had forgotten... But yes, William was a part of your mum’s family, because she’s a part of ours.”

Rosie was quiet. She had turned to face him, and she put her little hands into his great ones. “Daddy said that when I was born I took him away from you a little. Were you ever mad at me?” Sherlock didn’t believe in being anything less than honest with her, and he didn’t sugar coat it now.

“For a little bit, yes, I was. Not mad, though, more sad. I didn’t know yet, you see.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“How much more important protecting a little tiny baby would be to me than catching bad people. How I would come to want your daddy to stay with you when that was what we needed for you to be safe. How wonderful you were, and how you would get more and more wonderful every day. But it didn’t take long before I started to understand. You see, I needed you to teach me. I wouldn’t have learned those things if I didn’t have you. And I loved you so much that I made a very special promise to you that I would always be here for you, and I would always protect you. None of that’s changed.”

“So I taught you things, like you teach me things?” Rosie asked, her tone brightening.

“Of course.”

“I like that. And I like it very much when you teach me things.”

“Well, how else would you expect to learn to be a consulting detective? Between you and I, Rosie, your daddy is a very smart man, but I don’t know if he’s on par with you and me.”

“Will you teach baby William too?”

“I expect I will, yes. If he wants to learn.” 

After another pause, Rosie asked, in a timid, apprehensive voice “Do you think baby William will like me?”

“William will love you, Rosie.” He spoke with conviction, leaving no room for doubt.

“Maybe if I made a special promise to him that I’ll always take care of him, like you did to me, that might help me understand faster. Do you think it might?” Tears formed in his eyes, one spilling over before he could compose himself again. Rosie had her fathers heart and her mothers wisdom, and in that moment he was in awe of her.

“I think it might, yes. But you must be careful. Those special promises are very serious things. You mustn’t give them unless you intend to do everything you can to keep them.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone something if it wasn’t so.”

“See that you don’t.” Sherlock turned a stern face to her and then smiled. Just then the door opened, and Molly strolled over to them.

“Am I interrupting you two?”

Sherlock turned his face to Rosie’s again and asked in a serious voice “I don’t know, is she Rosie?”

Rosie looked at him incredulously and said “Don’t be daft, of course not!”

“No, of course, you’re right, silly of me to ask.” Rosie hopped down from the bench. She turned serious, purposeful eyes to Molly and took her hand, pulling her back towards the house.

“I’m going to make a special promise to baby William so I can understand how much I love him, just like Sherlock did with me. And I need to say sorry to him for making him cry.”

“Rosie, that is one of the best ideas I’ve heard in a long time. He’s down for his nap right now, but I’m sure we can make arrangements for a talk with him once he wakes up and has eaten.”

“Alright.” Rosie paused, pulling Molly to a stop. “Molly, can I ask you a question?”

”Of course.”

”Sherlock told me that you were the very first person to know we were all each other’s family. How did you know?”

Molly stopped, crouching down to Rosies level, and they threaded their hands together and held them there. Rosie did love her special tricks. 

“I knew because of the way I loved you all. Families love each other deep, deep in their hearts. Sometimes we’re happy, sometimes we’re sad, sometimes we rescue each other, and sometimes we hurt each other. When you feel that way about someone, you want to give them a piece of your own heart, so they know how much they mean to you. It’s not always easy to care about others that much. It can hurt sometimes.”

Rosie absentmindedly played with a lock of Molly’s hair. “You and my mummy were family to each other too.” It was a statement, but Molly responded as if it were a question.

“Yes, we were. We are, actually, that doesn’t stop.”

“It hurts that one of the bad people took her away from us.”

“It does for me as well. Sometimes it still feels like my heart will burst with sadness. She would be so proud of you - she loved you so very much. And her heart beat every moment for you and your daddy. You remind me so much of her. She was strong and brave and kind and loved with every bit of her heart, just like you.”

Rosie watched Molly’s face, just seeming to study her. Then she drew her hands back and pulled Molly towards the house.

“I think a promise for Baby William is very sensible.” It felt good to say this. Rosie liked it when things were sensible. It was less confusing that way. Molly grinned. She found the occasions that Rosie sounded so much like a miniature Sherlock endlessly endearing.

Once inside the house, Molly let go of Rosies hand and started preparing lunch. “Why don’t you go out to the sitting room and check on your daddy while I get lunch prepared? You know what mischief he can get into if left alone.”

Rosie agreed and turned to leave just as Sherlock came in from outside. Molly turned to him with a sweet smile.

“You were really very good out there.”

“How much did you overhear?”

“Enough. The window was open.” She kissed the tip of his nose.

Rosie, in the meantime, stopped just before the sitting room door. She could see John in an armchair, looking at something on his phone. Rosie considered him, then decided she could trust him to be on his own and behave properly for a few more minutes. She crept to the stairs, and made her way up as quietly as possible. Sherlock spotted her as she began to climb, but said nothing.

The door to Williams room was opened just a bit, so she could enter without making much noise and waking him. She took a deep breath and nodded once. This was important, and she didn’t want to wait.

She didn’t know that the baby monitor was on.

The creaking of the door coming from the receiver caught Sherlock’s attention in the kitchen, and he gestured first for Molly to be quiet, then for her to quickly follow him to the sitting room, the monitors receptor in his hand. Sherlock held a hushing finger before John could speak and turned up the volume. They heard a few more shuffling noises, and then Rosie’s voice. It was little more than a whisper, but held all the conviction a precocious four year old could display.

“Baby William, I need to speak with you. Molly said I should wait until after your nap, but I think this is very important, and I don’t want to wait. My daddy said that you are a part of our family that just hadn’t gotten here until now, and your daddy said that you’re a part of my mummy’s family too. I’ve been quite upset with you, Baby William, but I’m going to try not to be anymore, because your daddy and my daddy both said they won’t love me less just because they love you too. I’m sorry I made you cry before, I won’t do it again. Your daddy said he made a special promise to me when I was a tiny baby like you, and I think that helped him love me instead of being sad because my daddy couldn’t catch as many bad people with him. I’ve thought it over, and I’ve decided this was quite sensible. So I wanted to tell you that I’m making a special promise to look after you and protect you, because you’re my family too, and I’ll love you as soon as I understand. I guess we just have to love our families when they get here. I don’t know why or how yet, but I promise when I do, I’ll tell you all about it so that if we have any more babies that are our family you can just love them right away and never have to feel sad. There’s a lot I’ll need to teach you when you’ve gotten a bit bigger. Grown ups can be very odd, so you’ll need me to help you understand them. Okay, I think that’s enough to be getting on with. Good dreams, William.”

A few more shuffling sounds, and the receiver went quiet. As they started to scatter back to their original places John tipped his chin at Molly, then gestured to Sherlock with his head. “Like godfather, like goddaughter, eh?” Molly giggled through happy tears and nodded.

Rosie crept back downstairs and found John in the armchair. She sighed with relief at seeing he hadn’t gotten into any mischief. Just then Molly came from the kitchen to tell Rosie and John to wash up for lunch.

Rosie noticed that both of their eyes were a bit red, and John swooped her up in his arms and carried her to wash up instead of just taking her hand and walking. When they reached the kitchen, Sherlock was hugging Molly by the back window, and Molly sniffled a bit and whispered something that sounded like “always.”

Grown ups were really very strange sometimes.


End file.
